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<title>The Beth Text by MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25348510">The Beth Text</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines'>MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stargirl (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Like actual realistic representation, Pre-Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:00:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25348510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Beth has an emergency, Hourman climbs through her bedroom window.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beth Chapel &amp; Rick Tyler, Beth Chapel/Rick Tyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Beth Text</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Beth: </strong> <em> Rick, I need you.  </em></p><p>
  <em> ~.~ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Rick tumbled through her bedroom window, nearly breaking the frame. The glass shook like it wasn’t sure if it wanted to shatter or not, and the flap of her curtains blew up dramatically from the gust of wind. Hourman’s golden cape fell askew in his haste. His eyes darted up, alert in his mask as he oriented himself, sunken elbows-deep in her fuzzy floor carpet.</p><p> </p><p>“Beth!?”</p><p> </p><p>Beth had never heard Rick so panic-struck before. She cringed, feeling bad as she dragged the bag out of her closet through all of her clothes. “In here!”</p><p> </p><p>Quick on his feet, he scanned the room for Cindy or Sportsmaster or another ISA member as if they’d jump out from under her bed. </p><p> </p><p>Beth pulled out four green plastic packs of X-Pression Bahama Curls from out of the bag and waved them at him. </p><p> </p><p>Rick stared at her, lost.</p><p> </p><p>It took a good moment as Beth brought in her full-sized mirror to prop up against her vanity for him to be comfortable with the idea that he could let his guard down enough to not assume this wasn’t some sort of sneak ISA attack. Beth was fine. </p><p> </p><p>He let out a breath he might've been holding too long then narrowed his eyes at her accusingly. “You said there was an emergency.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t say it was an <em>emergency,</em>” Beth replied, tongue in cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Although it totally was one. After Yolanda got caught upside down in that barbed wire that afternoon, Beth had to rush home to finish her math assignment—Without Chuck’s help, she needed to get quadratics right properly for a Chuck-free test— and that ate up so much time she yelped when she realized how close it was to midnight. So she texted Rick. It seemed like the next best option. The first one wasn't worth mentioning.</p><p> </p><p>“I said I <em> needed </em> you.”</p><p> </p><p>“For <em> what?” </em></p><p> </p><p>Beth smiled brightly at him. “My hair!” She gestured at her braid extensions and crochet latch hook needle in an array on her bed. “They take forever to do on my own, and my hand starts cramping before I’m even halfway done.”</p><p> </p><p>“You want me to use my hour on your hair?”</p><p> </p><p>“Please?” The day was almost over so it wasn't like it would be a risk, and by some stroke of luck, he didn't use it today.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Rick muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch as he peeled his mask off his face. Beth did a little celebratory dance from her bed. If he really wanted to leave he would’ve already been back out the window. </p><p> </p><p>“Are your parents home?” He looked down at his very obvious JSA—ness. The tight suit, the big emblem belt, the boots. As far as discretion went—it didn’t. Just because Courtney’s parents are cool with hosting teen superheroes at weird hours didn’t mean it was the same for the rest of theirs. </p><p> </p><p>She smiled and patted a seat for him on her crisp blue duvet. “Not until five in the morning. Night shifts.”</p><p> </p><p>Chuck was on her nightstand where she left him, forgotten in favour of Youtube procuring a how-to video so she could share it with him in a regular way. </p><p> </p><p><em>“Rick,</em>” she pleaded in a soft voice when he didn’t move. She discovered recently if she widened her eyes at him, a look would pass his face that yielded him to her knees. And in that precious pocket of time, Beth could lull even his angriest thoughts of war to a whisper. It always baffled Courtney, who tried to replicate her model of calming Rick down after Beth's with little sway.  Yolanda called it Witchcraft™️. Beth wasn't afraid to use it, but she worried sometimes in the heat of a battle if it was taking advantage of him. </p><p> </p><p>He sighed again and rolled his eyes in a way Beth knew was harmless. </p><p> </p><p>He kicked off his boots and yanked off his gloves.“How long did you say this takes?”</p><p> </p><p>Beth made a face at the memory of the length of her last hair appointment. “Three hours?” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god.” He approached her, successfully coaxed in. </p><p> </p><p>“Well!” she added quickly. “I don’t have super strong fingers! That’s why I texted you! It’ll probably be a lot faster with your help.” </p><p> </p><p>Kneeling on her bed, he sat cluelessly, hands hovering over her thick, kinky hair. It wasn’t witchcraft. Rick trusted her. She never took that lightly.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe his fingers wouldn’t tire looping the braids in or holding the needle at weird angles for too long, but he was afraid of tugging too hard. He’d totalled a car before, Hourman wasn’t exactly <em>delicate</em>.</p><p> </p><p>As if she read his mind, she guided his hand to the part she’d just made with her wide comb. </p><p> </p><p>“I have a strong scalp,” she reassured him. “Just don’t yank and it should be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Okay,” he whispered still unsure, but after an informative tutorial and demonstration by Beth that he studied carefully, they went to work.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you want these in?” He was six loops in and a lot more comfortable. He tackled her right side as she took on the left, keeping that part down the middle. He was better at this than she thought he would be, nimble fingers pulling through every time with the crochet tool. “Do you not like how it looks?” He tugged on the piece he was working on. </p><p> </p><p>“My hair?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do,” she said. “But it’s been a really long time since I’ve done anything more than a perm for our family pictures. Elementary school.”</p><p> </p><p>“I remember.”</p><p> </p><p>“My family portraits?” She frowned curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever pointed those out.” Although surely he’d heard her talk about them on FaceTime calls to her parents every October in the cafeteria. And they hung on the wall of her staircase. He’d been here a couple of times since the JSA rebranded. It might’ve been an obvious object for Rick to notice, just something Beth had been blind to.  </p><p> </p><p>“No, your braids,” he clarified. “Two thick ones down the back from second to fifth grade. They were cute.”</p><p> </p><p>Rick continued with his twist, concentrating intently. She watched him, stopping her own braid as he finished his down her back. Was she touched or stung or perplexed? She wanted Chuck to help her navigate her feelings. Beth couldn’t decide. </p><p> </p><p>“What?” he said. </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t think you noticed.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve been in every class together since we were seven.”</p><p> </p><p>“You never talked to me.” </p><p> </p><p><em> Nobody ever talked to me</em>, she wanted to say. </p><p> </p><p>Rick lowered his hand, meeting her gaze through their reflection in her mirror. It was quite the image. A black teen girl in a washed-out grey tank and shorts sitting in front of her towering white, lean and reluctant hairdressing superhero. Beth’s lightbulb burnt out the other day and her dad never got around to fixing it, the dimly lit bedroom and late-hour made it all the more striking. And now they were venturing onto deep JSA taboo talks. Yolanda’s scandal. Court’s father. Rick’s bruises. Mr. Dugan's Starman. Henry’s mother. Beth’s bitterly pathetic history of social aptitude. She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” The hourglass sand trickled steadily into its base. “Beth, I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>She touched his spandex-clad knee. Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she wore a tight smile, despite her sudden pressing urge to cry.</p><p> </p><p>“Rick. I’m not mad at <em> you </em>.” She uttered a soft laugh at the gentle way he stroked her hair in response, relief even. “It was never you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I never realized you were mad at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that’s just stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not,” he replied, taking over her side of the part. He didn’t even need to refer to the youtube video or her completed braids anymore. She tried to help him but he knocked her hand away. She rested them over her knees after a moment of letting them hang in the air. </p><p> </p><p>“You’ve always been so...Beth.”</p><p> </p><p>“So <em> Beth</em>?” she repeated incredulously, smirking a little. </p><p> </p><p>He got hot under his collar, shifting in his position with a flush. “Shut up,” he said so uselessly she actually laughed out loud. “You know what I mean.” He was running out of time, but her hair was almost all done anyway. “Helpful and cheery and full of smiles without spite, even when people rejected you. Even if they don't deserve you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not everyone hurts the same way, Rick.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p> </p><p>She knew he knew that now, experienced it firsthand growing close to her, Courtney, Henry and Yolanda. </p><p> </p><p>“My mom told me when I was little, that the last thing the person that hates you wants to see is your smile.” </p><p> </p><p>Rick reeled back. </p><p> </p><p>She frowned at herself. “I faked it a lot at first. But the more I smiled, the happier I felt with myself. The more I found joy in the small things in my life...Even if I was lonely.” </p><p> </p><p>Two arms wrapped around her middle from behind her, surprising Beth out of her internal monologue. Rick dropped his head against her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Beth had touched Rick a hundred of fleeting times. She fell into his arms or yanked him back from a rash fistfight, high-fived or brushed his fingers when passing school notes. She'd wrapped bandages around his purpling knuckles. Even reached for his hand a couple of scary times. </p><p> </p><p>This was not that. </p><p><br/>This felt warm and spell-binding, even with the huge hourglass pressed against her back. Slowly, she reached up to run her hand through his brown mussed white boy hair, feeling the silk of his cape and hood. Rick shuddered at her touch and said something else, muffled into her skin. It was like he ached for this, needed it deep in his bones or soul. Beth didn’t know what to do. Or if there was anything <em>to </em>do. She had never been this close to a boy before. She had never been this close, <em>physically,</em> with anybody. Maybe the girls had it wrong. She couldn't move. She could barely breathe. But the lightheaded dizzy feeling with Rick's breathing near enough to hear was not something she ever wanted to let go of.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Beth was the bewitched one.  </p><p> </p><p>His time ran out. He held her just the same. It was nice to know it was possible, she thought wistfully. That Rick Tyler could be as intimate and secure without some external source of strength. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for spending your hour with me.” </p><p> </p><p>She turned around, and her hair moved freely with her head, shoulder-length and new. It weighed heavily. A tension headache crept into her temples from her edges, though she wouldn’t tell him because they weren’t of any fault of Rick. Twists and braids always had a certain ache to them on the first day. It was late too, Beth just needed a good sleep. It didn’t seem hard, now. Something about this hug made her peacefully sleepy. </p><p> </p><p>“Your welcome,” he said, his eyes softening upon hers once again. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>She didn’t even have to pull her sorcery moves. She could already hear Yolanda’s voice in her head. <em> Double Witchcraft!™️ </em></p><p> </p><p>Lucky Beth. </p><p> </p><p>“Let me know what kind of an emergency I’m getting myself into next time. I’ll be there.”  </p><p> </p><p>"Even if it's just my hair?" she joked. </p><p> </p><p>"Yes," he said. It sounded like a lingering promise. She hoped he knew it went both ways.   </p><p> </p><p>"Okay." Beth closed her eyes and hummed. "I'll text when I need you." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just want to say, as a black woman (sociologist...writer...communications studies advocate...wistful girl and hopeless romantic?) these are the small kinds of moments I'd like to see on TV. While media is taking cautious steps towards embracing diversity, having black characters means actually creating black narratives. How do they live their lives? What are their daily routines? As an avid Flash fan, this was the sort of thing I've always craved from Westallen and they're married. If (when?) Hournite becomes canon, even if they're "only teens", I'd love to see larger leaps at what it's like to be in an interracial relationship. What it would mean for someone like Rick to love someone like Beth. I can guarantee a tiny scene like this could be crazy impactful for so many young adults in a burgeoning era of looking to DC superheroes as role models.</p><p>That said. I love hournite and you can find me on Tumblr @Hournites</p></blockquote></div></div>
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